“Life in the slums ain’t haff az bad az it looks,” Vic said as he walked me through. All I could think about were those two gaping holes in his gums where his front teeth were meant to be. The derelict ruins of the slums was secondary. “Sure! Dere’s the rats da size of cats, and da toilets dat swalla you whole, but -”
“Did I hear you right? Toilets?”
“Only them that haz flowers. Dey ain’t actual toilets. Dey from outa-space, and preten’ to be johns soes dey can eat yo.”
“Right-o. Guess I’ll stay away from the loos, then.”
As is generally the case this time of the week, this post is part of the weekly Friday Fictioneers challenge in which our fairy blog-mother, Rochelle, posts an image and you come up with a story in 100 words or less.